


never believe it's not so

by brokendrums



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Magic, Minor Liam Payne/Sophia Smith, Minor Perrie Edwards/Zayn Malik, OT5 Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 21:06:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3332873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokendrums/pseuds/brokendrums
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Armed with an old dodgy spell book they found in Liam's nan's attic and their last summer together, the boys get much more than they bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	never believe it's not so

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alison](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alison/gifts).



> For [ alison ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/alison) who asked for an OT5 friendship where they are the five sole members of the same club and shenanigans ensue. I deviated a little but I hope this is ok!
> 
> Huge thanks to [herstrionics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/herstrionics) for the beta! And, of course to the mods for all their modding ways! No animals were harmed in the making of this fic. 
> 
> Title from Pilot - Magic.

It all starts with a text into their Whatsapp group at an ungodly hour of the morning. 

_avengers assemble_

Niall rolls over, shoving his phone under his pillow in the process. It’s the first day of the summer holidays -- correction: the first day of his non-school-going life -- and he’s not going to be woken up by Louis yapping on about some superhero movie. 

He settles back down into sleep, steadily ignoring the sunlight streaming through his window and the sounds of his very awake household. His phone buzzes underneath his ear, loud even through the pillow. He ignores it, dozes off to the faint vibration under his cheek, until there’s a loud crash and his door flies open. 

“Niall Ignatius Horan,” Louis announces before flopping down onto the bed beside him. He doesn’t land _on_ him, thank god. Not after what happened last time. 

“M’ name isn’t Ignatius,” Niall mutters and shoves his nose underneath his covers. “Piss off.” 

“Now,” Louis says and this time he does roll on top of him, slightly more gentle than if he’d done a full belly flop on top of him. “You shall be called whatever your Uncle Louis decides to name you.”

Niall digs him in the side with his elbow and Louis cackles loudly in his ear before sliding off the side to lie stretched out beside him, head on Niall’s pillow. 

“Come on, sleepy head,” Louis singsongs, irritatingly awake when all Niall wants to do is sleep. “Liam’s got the stuff.”

That makes Niall open his eyes. “He does?” he asks. He clears the sleep out of his voice with a rough cough. Louis pulls a face. 

“Hack your phlegm somewhere else please,” Louis mutters and Niall aims another dig into his side, this time with his fist. 

“My fucking room, isn’t it?” he asks him. Louis just offers him a blinding smile before rolling onto his back and ushering him out of bed. 

“What stuff does Liam have?” Niall asks, just to be sure. Louis has a reputation of leaving out key details when he’s this excited. And he is excited -- Niall can nearly see it radiating off him. 

“We’re ready,” Louis says and Niall feels a buzz of anticipation. They’re ready.

By the time he gets dressed and runs a toothbrush round his mouth Louis has fallen asleep, curled into the warm space where Niall had been before, but his phone is buzzing again right where it’s lodged under Louis' jaw, so it doesn’t take him long to wake up. 

“Get this bloody thing away from me,” Louis orders, wrenching the phone out from underneath the duvet. 

“Come on,” Niall says and drags him up by his wrist. Louis looks disgruntled, hair sticking up where it was smushed into the pillow, but he follows him down the stairs and out the front door anyway. 

It’s sunny but not particularly warm so they walk down the path side by side, hands shoved into pockets. It’s not far, just a few streets up towards Zayn’s house. Harry’s standing at the corner, just underneath the bus stop. He’s got the collar of his long black coat popped and his hair is pulled into a tragic-looking headband. Niall can see how it digs into his skull, his hair dimpling on either side of it. Harry thinks it makes him look older, more sophisticated. Niall thinks he looks like a kid playing dress up. 

“Look at this fuckface,” Louis sighs beside him, just quiet enough that Harry won’t hear him. “Is he trying to hide in plain sight or something?” 

Niall rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure everyone will work it out. Five warlocks at the end of the street. Light the pyres.”

Louis sends him a look as they come to a stop beside him. 

“You off to a blood sacrifice?” Louis asks him in lieu of a greeting. Harry smiles at him brilliantly. 

“Saving that for the weekend,” Harry says and then gets straight to it, pointing at the headband tightly wound to his skull. “Look what Gemma brought me home from her holiday! Cool, isn‘t it?” 

“I hope she brought you something a bit more fun than that,” Louis says and Harry just smiles at him, turning to walk down the street towards Zayn’s house. 

“Patience is a virtue, young Louis,” Harry says wisely. His coat swishes around his knee as they push through the gate and walk up the path to Zayn’s front door. 

“Not when you’ve been up since four,” Louis mutters, and it clicks into place why he is so tetchy already today: He’s already started his job for the summer. Niall shoves him through the door after Harry, the three of them passing the living room, cartoons playing loudly on the TV. 

Liam and Zayn are already in the kitchen. There's cartoons on in there too but Liam jumps up when he sees them. 

“Good,” Liam says as he dumps his mug in the sink and grabs Zayn’s arm to drag him into the back garden. 

“Christ, Liam,” Harry mutters. “Let us get our coat off first.”

“You won’t need it to turn into wings at midnight then?” Louis asks him lightly, already shrugging out of his own coat. 

“No,” Harry replies. “You’ll need it when your carriage turns back into a pumpkin.” Harry slides the French doors open and motions for him. “C’mon, Princess.”

Louis scowls at him but follows him out into the garden. 

“Hello to you too,” Zayn mutters. Niall loops an arm around him and drags him into a hug. 

“Hello,” he sings into Zayn’s ear. Niall keeps a hold of him until they get to the door of the shed. He’s warm and smells of his mum’s baking -- much better than Louis did. 

“I can’t stay out here for too long,” Zayn tells them once he’s untangled himself from Niall’s arms and they’ve made themselves comfy in his shed. His dad’s lawnmower is strung up on the back wall and the whole place smells of paint but they’ve been using it as a meeting place every summer for years. They had decided long ago that Zayn’s shed was the perfect place to hang out when it typically rained in the middle of July -- even if the roof did leak a bit. 

Niall always finds the holidays a bit odd. He’s so used to seeing the boys everyday that anything longer than an odd weekend away from them seems too long. Niall tries not to think of this as the last summer they’ll do that, all of them off to uni at the end of September. 

“Why?” Liam asks. He has a bag with him and sets it down on the old card table as Niall pulls up a chair. Niall feels another thrill of excitement shoot through him.

Harry’s already lounging beside him in a deck chair. There’s a hole in it -- Niall had put his foot through it when they were thirteen and he isn’t sure how Harry never seems to fall through it. 

“Supposed to be looking after Saf, aren’t I?” Zayn asks and plonks himself down on the semi-blown-up paddling pool. It wheezes under his weight but whatever it’s sitting on means he’s only about a head shorter than the rest of them. 

“She’s like eleven,” Louis mutters and Zayn snorts. 

“She’s eight,” Zayn tells him. “And going through this really weird phase with scissors so…”

Zayn doesn’t seem to mind the stares they’re all giving him and just pulls out the book instead, setting it in the centre of the table. 

It looks shabbier every time Niall sees it but there’s still something magnificent about it. It’s unassuming, just a bundle of old, dog-eared pages that are yellowing with age, but there’s a draw to it, Niall can feel himself lean in on instinct. 

Liam had found it when they cleared out his nan’s attic and after a little bit of reading, he was convinced they were all going to be wizards. It had taken a while to convince Zayn that it would work and about the same amount of time for Harry to convince them he was worthy of joining their club. Louis had arranged initiations and everything. 

Louis reaches for it, forever eager to get it open, while Liam tips his bag open on top of the table. Out rolls a few jars and a paper packet. Niall bites his lip to stop the giddy laugh escaping his mouth. Harry gives him a grin that Niall returns breathlessly. 

They’ve had the book for ages, all of them flicking through it and trying out a few of the easier spells. They once turned a streak of Zayn’s hair blond but that’s as far as it really got. 

But this. This is the big one.

It’s been in the works since Christmas when they all had the balls to admit that they wanted to try out something big. And it’s a random bit of happenstance that means they’re doing it at the beginning of their last proper summer holiday together. 

“So,” Liam says and something cool and calm comes over his voice. For all the worrying he normally does, Niall always thinks it’s funny how into it Liam gets. “I finally got us some wych elm chippings.”

Zayn cheers and they all give him a round of applause. Liam grins and tips his head in a sort of bow before ripping open the package. 

“It took me ages to convince my --” Liam cuts off and clears his throat. “Ages to get them.”

“Oooh,” Louis taunts. “Liam, you got a girlfriend on the sly?” 

The tips of Liam’s ears go pink. “They arrived in the post yesterday,” Liam says instead, ignoring how Louis shuffles closer to him to rib him more, no doubt. 

“You mean we could’ve done this last night?” Louis asks irritably, dodging out of the way when Zayn reaches over to smack him. 

“I like that it’s called a wych elm,” Harry says whimsically, lounging further back in the chair. “Very apt.”

“I think we’re all pronouncing it wrong,” Zayn points out but - as per usual - no one listens to him. 

“Can we all shut up so we can get on with it?” Liam asks and Niall swallows down a laugh. He knows Liam is trying to get them back on track but he just ends looking like a very stern puppy. 

“Yes,” Zayn agrees. “I have to stick the dinner on soon.”

“Well if someone hadn’t slept the whole day away,” Louis mutters, eyes flicking treacherously over at Niall. 

“It’s summer,” is all the explanation Niall gives, watching Louis scowl when the rest of them shrug in agreement. 

Liam drags out an old pot they salvaged from Zayn’s mum’s great-charity-shop-exodus of ’09 and sets it in the middle of the table. It’s heavy, the metal tarnished and battered, but it’s perfect for their cauldron. Liam flips through a few pages as Harry gets up to light the candles dotted around the shed. There’s one in the grimy window, one balanced on an upside-down bucket, and a cluster in the basket of Zayn’s old bike. Niall reaches back and flicks off the halogen lamp swinging above them, sending them all into a flickering dim. 

Niall fights the shiver rolling down his spine. It’s always special when they do this -- even if it hasn’t worked out quite right yet. 

“Let’s get started then,” Harry says quietly. He reaches for one of the candles, dripping the layer of molten wax off the top and into the cauldron. Zayn chucks in a slice of lemon and Louis a handful of sand that they had collected from the lake. 

“Hair of a virgin,” Louis says loudly and reaches to pluck a hair from Liam’s head. Liam groans and pulls away. 

“Do you have to do that every time?” he asks. “It’s not funny anymore. How many times do I have to tell you?”

Louis laughs but settles back into his seat, unwrapping a few of the other things that they need -- raspberries and a crushed hyacinth -- a virginal hair not part of the list. Niall had been glad when they stopped reading those types of spells.

“Ready?” Zayn asks, holding a match against the side of the box. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Harry cries and wrenches into one of the inside pockets of his big coat. “We should do a toast.”

He pulls out a bottle of lurid green liquid and holds it up proudly. “Gemma’s second present.”

“Nice,” Louis says appreciatively as Niall says, “Haven’t bloody had breakfast yet.”

“When’s that ever stopped you?” Louis asks, head bowed as he starts hunting through the basket of tit tat on the floor beside him. Zayn’s mum needs another mass clear out for the charity shop. 

“What is it?” Liam asks nervously. Harry grins at him as he sloshes some into one of the dirty jars Louis hands him. 

“Absinthe,” Harry tells him, handing him a half full glass across the table. It’s dripping a bit, Harry’s clumsy track record doing him no favours. “It’ll put some hairs on your chest.”

“Like you’d know,” he mumbles but accepts it anyway. Harry grins at him, sloshing more of into a chipped ceramic mug and handing it to Niall. The rim is sticky already. 

“What are we toasting to?” Niall asks, raising his mug into the middle. Zayn’s drinking out of the matching saucer. “To us?” 

“To magic,” Louis says, eyes shining in the candle light. “To the great wizards of our time -- Merlin, Harry Potter, of Oz, and of course, Sabrina.” Zayn snorts, hand wobbling a bit so he dribbles off the edge of his plate. 

“Watch it,” Harry scolds him half-heartedly. 

“Think Sabrina is a witch, mate,” Zayn reminds him. 

“Nah,” Louis says shaking his head. “There‘s something dodgy about her. Pretty sure she‘s a bloke.” 

Harry shakes his head and clears his throat. “To knowing each other the best.”

“To being best friends,” Liam says quietly. Niall smiles brightly at him and clinks his mug off the rim of Louis' jam jar and Harry’s half-full bottle. 

It burns on the way down and Niall can’t help coughing out a laugh. Louis lets out a growl. Liam’s sat down on his stool with a hand clamped over his mouth. 

“Fuck,” Zayn says, tongue lolling out of his mouth. “That’s disgusting.”

“We’ll do another round later, yeah?” Harry says, slamming the bottle down onto the wobbly table. Niall laughs, wiping the back of his mouth and takes his seat too. 

“Right,” Liam says, clearing his throat again. “Let’s get to it.”

They all get serious then, hands out palm up on the scratchy wooden cover of the table. Harry nods at Zayn across the table and he strikes a match, dropping it into the pot and grabbing Niall’s hand. His fingers squeeze around Niall’s and Niall can’t help but squeeze back. 

He’d been excited for this in an abstract way, in a way that he’s excited for Christmas knowing it’s months away, or for Derby getting promoted up to the Premiership: knowing it’s not very bloody well likely. 

“Everyone got your wishes ready?” Liam asks. Niall swallows around the nervous lump in his throat. Niall had been mulling this bit over, not sure of what to really ask for. He glances around the other four to see them all frown in concentration. He’d love to know what they’re going to ask. 

Liam starts the chant, his words enunciated perfectly from the translator they’d found on Google. Louis joins in and then Zayn until it’s Niall’s part, words that have become second nature to him, blending in with Harry’s voice and the rest of them until they’re chanting it. The pot is properly smoking now, filling up the small shed with an acrid stench. Niall fights to keep his eyes closed, even as his hands starts to tingle and the colours on the back of his eyelids start to change colour. 

There’s a strange buzzing in his ears, an on-off blur of sound that makes his head spin even with his eyes closed. It’s bright and glittery and sort of hurts. Niall wants to shut his eyes but they’re already shut. Harry and Liam’s hands feel very far away, even though they’re gripped in his own at his arms length. The light gets intense and then it all goes dark. 

“Fuck,” Zayn murmurs. 

Niall snaps his eyes open but he’s not sure what’s different. He doesn’t know what he had been expecting. The pot is still smoking faintly but that’s about it. The sun is still shining weakly through the windows and he feels fine, he supposes. Nothing hurts. 

But something is off. 

He blinks down at the mug in front of him but when he blinks he gets a flash of the bottle in front of Harry and of himself, as if he was sitting on the opposite side of the table. The buzzing in his ears dulls down into a stream of words, as if someone was speaking right in his ear. It’s a garbled mess and Niall frowns, tightening his fingers in concentration to work out what they’re saying. 

Liam yanks at his hand and Niall looks up at him, watches as Liam’s mouth drops open. “Holy shit,” he says but it’s like an echo, his voice faint. Niall blinks and focuses on Liam again, sees his gobsmacked expression, hears his panic. _Hears Louis._

“What?” Niall asks out loud and frowns, his head is starting to pound. He can hardly hear himself think. It’s disorientating, like a ringing behind his ears. There’s worry clawing at his throat and Niall can’t work out where it’s coming from. 

“What the fuck,” Liam swears out loud and Niall’s confused for a moment. He just heard Louis say the exact thing. 

“Holy shit,” Louis swears again but _his_ mouth is clamped shut across the table, eyes wide and trained on Liam.

“Holy shit,” Liam echoes a few moments later. He scrambles across the table to grab at Louis’ face, cradling his head in his hands. Niall’s hand falls against the table with a thump. 

“Did you drink more absinthe when we weren’t looking?” Niall asks. Louis shakes himself out of Liam’s grip and eyes wide. Niall feels his gut twist but doesn’t know why. It feels foreign, like it’s someone else’s gut. 

“What’s going on?” Harry asks and he’s shrunk in on himself, looking around with wide eyes. 

Niall goes to make sure he’s ok, sliding a hand over to his forearm and he already knows. 

_What the fuck? I’m gonna hurl._

Niall shifts out of the way just in time as Harry turns to the side and spits his lunch onto the floorboards beside them. 

“Ugh,” Zayn groans across from him. “Harry, you’re cleaning that up yourself.”

“It’s the absinthe,” Louis moans, hands going up to pull at his hair. Niall feels like he could retch too.

“Oi,” Zayn snaps and reaches across to pull at Niall’s wrist. _What the fuck is going on, why are you all looped out. Mum’s going to kill me._

Niall wrenches his hand away, staring at it as if Zayn had burned it. It’s warm, the points of contact throbbing but it’s all in his head, Zayn’s voice echoing in his head when his mouth hadn’t moved. 

“It must’ve dripped into the pot,” Louis moans and shoves his hands into his hair, biting his lip. He never does that, it’s more something Liam does. 

Niall grabs the book from him, scanning over the page and right at the bottom, scratched in with an uneven piece of pencil is the words **Non vino**. It’s underlined twice, the nib of the pencil scratching a hole in the paper. 

“How have we never seen this before?” Niall asks them, looking between Liam and Louis or Louis and Liam. Niall’s head hurts. “We’ve fucking read over this a million times. Liam you can recite this back to front.”

 _I’m Liam._ comes from Louis’ body and Niall snaps his eyes to him. “Sorry.”

“What is going on?” Harry moans from beside him. “I feel wretched. Does no one else feel sick?” 

“Just you, you blabbering baby,” Liam’s body says, but it’s hard to mistake Louis' acidic tone. 

Harry’s eyes widen and Louis’ reaches out to smack at his arm. 

“Don’t be so mean in my body,” Liam whines. Louis reaches for him, making Liam’s arm shove into Niall’s shoulder. Harry groans, muffling a burp behind his hand.

“You’ve fucking _switched_?” Zayn asks, suddenly catching on. Louis looks like he’s going to have a mental breakdown. Niall can feel it, the worry and the desperation mixing in with all the confusion and panic in the room. Harry’s stomach rolls again, Niall’s does too. 

“What’s wrong?” Liam asks him, reaching forward to touch his hand to his skin. He feels clammy, a raw heat rolling up his spine. Harry slumps into his other side and there’s another hand on the back of his neck. 

Niall takes a deep breath. He can’t concentrate on them individually. It’s like they’re all shouting at full force, a constant squabble of _fucking hell, I’m going to puke again, I can’t believe I actually look like that, this isn’t my body, what is wrong with me, my dad is never going to let us into the shed again, whatisgoingonthisisn’twirghtwhyarewedoingthis, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck_

“Fuck,” Niall mutters faintly and gives into the darkness. 

*

Niall wakes up to water on his face and a pain in each juncture of his torso. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Niall asks, blinking his eyes open to the rain and seeing nothing but blank, grey sky in front of him for a moment before each of the boys’ heads pop into view. 

He flails and someone’s -- Harry’s -- grip finally falters and he lands on his arse in the middle of Zayn’s soaked garden. 

“We thought we should get you inside,” Louis says very earnestly, his hands still a grip around Niall’s left ankle. Niall can hear the words in an echo but in his head it sounds like it’s Liam saying it. Niall kicks at him, loosening his grip so he can sit up properly. Zayn and Liam let go of their limbs too and just like that some of the buzzing dies down in his head. 

“We didn’t know how long you’d be out,” Zayn explains. “And it _just_ started to rain. I swear.”

“Ok,” Niall mutters and gets to his feet. Harry still looks a bit ashen faced and the rest don’t really look much better. Niall’s head is still pounding. He can feel the anxious worry rolling off all of them but there’s also something else. 

“Zayn!” Safaa calls from the doorway. “I’m hungry.”

“Coming!” Zayn yells as he turns towards the house, leaving the rest of them to trudge after him.

They eat a dinner of potato waffles and beans -- Liam loading his with cheese much to Louis' dismay. Niall blinks at his plate. It’s actually Louis in there. He’s the one that’s scoffing half a block of cheese to fuck with Liam. It takes a minute to get his head around it, especially since it’s already crammed full of confusing emotions. 

“I have training in the morning,” Louis' body warns him. Liam’s hand brushes Niall’s and he can hear actual-Louis scoff. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Liam’s mouth says but it’s an echo to what Louis had thought seconds before. Niall tries to breathe calmly. “Think I’ll enjoy my Saturday morning in bed, thanks.”

“You have to go!” Louis exclaims. 

Niall’s head hurts. He cuts off the corner of a potato waffle with the side of his fork and pushes it around his plate. 

“I have no idea what the fuck is going on,” Zayn says from his spot between them. He looks at them wide eyed and then at Harry and Niall opposite him. Harry looks just as bewildered. He’s hardly touched his food, still looking like he’s in pain. Niall can feel it radiating off them both. 

“What’s up with you two?” Liam demands. “Have you swapped bodies too?” Louis' hope playing out on Liam’s features. 

Harry glances over at Niall. “Nope, still me.”

Niall nods and sets down his fork. The others watch him, waiting for him to speak. 

“Head hurts,” Niall explains with a shrug. He knocks his ankle against Harry’s underneath the table and his head is flooded with _Harry_. Beside him, Harry deflates and Niall can feel -- hear -- the relief behind his eyes.

“My legs hurt,” he whines and it’s much louder in his head. Niall can hear how much he’s reining it in -- probably because Louis would take the piss out of him for it. “And my arms. It feels like my bones are melting.”

“A bit dramatic,” Louis comments. Niall blinks up. If he doesn’t over think it he can just ignore the fact that the voice is different, that there’s layers of Liam accent over Louis' words and he can pretend that it is actually Louis saying it. That might make his head hurt a little less at least. 

“How did you lot get out of something fucked up happening then?” Louis pouts. Niall’s sure it’s the first time he’s actually seen him do that, face completely changing as his bottom lip pushes out.

“Maybe we’re special?” Liam suggests hopefully. 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” 

Niall clears his throat. 

“Not completely,” Niall mutters. “I can um-- I can hear what you’re thinking?”

He asks it like a question in the hopes that none of them will question him back. He’s wrong. 

“What?” Zayn asks faintly. Harry, to his left, starts to panic slightly, a jumble of words flying through his head at speed. Niall wrenches his foot back and it dulls slightly, just the feeling of panic clawing up his throat instead. 

Louis is staring at him very intently and Niall snorts. “I don’t think it works like that,” he explains. He has no idea how it actually works but he reaches across and skims his fingers over Louis' hand. Testing it out.

“Is that why you believed us immediately?” Liam’s voice immediately floods his head and when Niall glances up he sees his mouth firmly shut. “Fuck!” 

Niall manages a smile at him. “Yeah, I can hear you, Liam.”

“Fuck,” Liam swears in his head again and starts to hum loudly. Niall frowns, his head is back being too full. There’s not enough room for himself to think along with the thoughts of the rest of them so he draws his hands away but it’s still too full. 

“Is it just us?” Zayn asks. “Or can you hear _everything_?”

It feels like everything but Niall takes a deep breath and tries to concentrate. 

“I can feel everyone,” Niall says and Liam snorts. “Like your emotions or whatever and then when you touch me I can hear your thoughts.”

Zayn visibly recoils and Niall tries not to find offence in it but the surrogate confusion and distrust in his head mingles with his own worry. He stretches back in his chair, tries to focus on the happiness floating in from Safaa in the living room. It’s warm compared to the steely uncertainty around the kitchen table. 

“What did you think of?” Zayn asks. “Like what did you all wish for if this is what happened?”

Liam shrugs awkwardly but it’s got Louis written all over it. Louis’ face is blushing. They’re awkward, Niall can feel it and it makes him want to shiver and cringe and shudder along with them. 

“You’re going to have to tell us,” Harry says desperately. “To see if it came true.”

“They didn’t come true,” Niall tells him. “I didn’t wish for this!”

“Well I didn’t wish for this, either,” Louis snaps and it looks like Liam‘s gesturing to his own body. “Why would I want to be _in_ Liam.”

“I like my own limbs,” Liam agrees. “This isn’t what I meant.”

“What _did_ you mean?” Zayn asks him and Liam wilts. 

“I might have asked to be good with girls,” Liam tells him. “I want to --”

He cuts himself off and groans, pushing a palm over his face. 

“What?” Louis asks, voice nearly rising to hysterical. It makes Niall’s chest feel tight, that sudden burst of extreme chaos. 

“I --” Liam’s face twists and he meets his own eyes for the first time since they‘ve started dinner. “I asked to be good with girls, like you are.”

There’s a moment of silence, where Niall feels like he’s in the eye of a storm, everyone’s feelings faltering and fracturing into new ones. 

“You _what?_ “ Louis asks him and reaches across the table again as if to throttle him. Zayn yanks Louis’ body out of the way. 

“You’re only hurting yourself,” he snaps at him and Liam gives out a pitiful moan. 

“I didn’t mean it like that. Like this,” Liam whines. “Why the fuck would I want to _be_ you?”

Niall turns away from them as they start to bicker. Harry’s still pale, his bottom lip tucked under his teeth. He looks swamped in his coat. There’s still worry under there, something questioning. Niall holds a hand out and Harry doesn’t hesitate to take it. _What’s going to happen to me then?_ Harry asks, lips tightly shut and Niall can feel him start to fret. 

Niall holds his arm open and Harry falls into it without a word, his thoughts doing all the explaining. He can feel the other three transition into shock. 

“Hey,” Niall murmurs. He doesn’t need to look up to know that the others are moving too, he can hear it and feel it. “We’ll work it out.”

“It’s just,” Harry starts out loud but his thoughts trail on, he thinks of the pain in his legs and the sick, achey feeling in his gut. 

“We’ll figure it out,” Niall says again and wishes it was the other way about, that Harry could hear how sincere he’s being. He repeats it, says it to all of them. 

A set of hands land on his back, Louis' brash voice joining Harry’s inner monologue when they brush skin against skin and then they’re all huddled in, joining in on the hug. 

*

Zayn sends them packing after tea with a sly grin. “Perrie’s coming round. Wants to see me before mum and dad get home from work.”

“Oh,” Liam says with a cheeky glint to his eye. “You sure you don’t want us to stay?”

Zayn eloquently raises a finger to him.

“And where are you off to?” Harry asks when they get to the end of Zayn’s path and Liam’s body comes with them. Louis hovers at the gate with a confused frown on his face. 

“Home,” Liam’s shoulder shrugs and his face is twisted into a unimpressed scowl. Niall waits for him to get it. They’ve settled down slightly, the panic settling down to an ebb of worry in the background as they all adjust to their afternoon. 

“Fuck off,” he cries when it all clicks into place. “I seriously have to go home to his place?” He throws his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of Liam’s house. 

“Of course you do,” Harry says. “You have to pretend to be him. We can’t let his mum know.”

“She’ll know,” Louis says confidently. Liam’s should brushes against Niall’s and Louis' thoughts rush through him -- _that’s what I’m afraid of_. 

“How about you both go?” Niall suggests, taking a clear step away from them. “Say you’re sleeping over and then that means you can step on Louis' toes if he does anything out of line.”

“Break your own toes,” Liam’s body shrugs as he relaxes into the hedge of Zayn’s garden. They’re still standing outside his house. Niall can see Zayn’s curtains twitch every so often. He’s probably wondering what the fuck they’re doing loitering at the end of his path. 

“That’s actually a good idea,” He doesn’t need to hear Liam to see that he’s mulling it over before he says it out loud. Opposite him, his body looks offended, but it’s Louis underneath all that so it sort of makes sense. 

“You should be taking my side in this --” Liam’s mouth moves but then he cuts off and lets out a loud whistle. Niall’s shocked, he hasn’t ever heard Liam whistle. “Oh, there she is. Zayn’s waiting on you, Pez, he’s chucked us all out!” 

Perrie walks up to them, face growing bewildered at the fact that it’s seemingly _Liam_ taking the piss out of her. 

“Bet he’s brushing his teeth, cleaning behind his balls -- ow Liam, watch it --” 

Louis' hand falls from where it just whacked at Liam’s shoulder and they both look a bit stricken then, realising what Louis' just said. 

“I’m not even going to ask,” Perrie says breezily and pushes through the gate to get to the door. Niall squints, the sun is setting but it’s still bright. Zayn holds his finger up when he opens the door for her but Louis doesn’t whoop or cat-call. 

“Maybe we should do it then,” Louis sighs, Liam’s shoulders dropping in resignation. Niall can feel the disappointment, it’s a bit jumbled but Niall finds threads of embarrassment at being proved wrong there too. 

Niall swallows the lump in his throat that hasn’t came from his own emotions.

“Come on.” Liam sighs and reaches out, takes his own body under Louis' arm. It looks slightly mismatched, Liam’s last growth spurt making him stoop over under Louis. 

“See you tomorrow,” Harry says with a hint of a promise as they turn to walk the opposite way towards home. Louis waves limply as they start off in the direction of Liam’s house.

“Are you feeling better?” Niall asks Harry quietly. They’re a few streets to Harry’s house and he still looks mopey, his face downturned as they walk down the sunbleached path. 

“Just feel a bit sick,” Harry says but Niall already knows that. He nods and doesn’t say anything, just looks ahead at the pink and lilac streaked sky, the signs of a lovely day after the rain they had earlier. Niall’s pondering the abrupt change of weather when Harry reaches for his hand. A faint sizzle crackles up his arm and it’s like he’s in Harry’s head. His vision blurs slightly. He can see the road in front of them in double before it twangs back into focus. 

I feels like he’s got a head full of cotton wool, like he can’t speak because his tongue is so swollen, and then there’s a sharpness to it, one that he can feel viscerally in his belly. 

_What happens if we can’t fix it?_ Harry asks without even opening his mouth. 

“We’ll fix it,” Niall says because thinking it back isn’t working. Harry doesn’t believe him but Niall’s not sure if he would believe his conviction either.

Niall breathes through his nose, squeezes Harry’s fingers and deals with constriction in his brain until they get to the end of Harry’s road.

Niall gasps when Harry lets go but Harry looks marginally better so Niall thinks it’s worth it. “See you tomorrow?”

Harry nods. “I’ll pick you up. Gemma’s letting me use her car.”

“Perfect.” Niall pulls him into a hug, noses against the soft material of his ridiculous headscarf. There’s a muffled constriction in his head again, something that squeezes at all his thoughts until all he can feel is Harry’s. He lets his eyes close and sees himself reflected through Harry’s eye, the pain he’s feeling in his gut, the worry for the rest of them, the sinking disappointment that it all went wrong. 

Harry breaks apart slowly and he looks young, his bottom lip pushed vulnerably out. “Night, Niall.”

“Night night.”

*

Slipping into his house feels like a relief. For the first time in hours it’s _quiet_.

His dad is in the kitchen, slowly washing up the dishes from dinner. 

“You get fed alright?” he asks when he sees Niall at the doorway. Niall nods. It feels so calm after everything they’ve done today -- everything that’s went wrong. 

Niall tries to work out what he’s feeling from his dad but he can’t do it. He feels warm, his fingers brushing against the soft t-shirts that have been folded on the kitchen table and content, his heart rate slowing down the longer he stands there. His shoulders relax and he takes a breath. 

His dad smiles at him as he dries his hands on a tea towel. 

“I can fix you something?” he asks but Niall shakes his head. He’s not hungry. He feels suddenly tired -- like he’s warm and sated.

“Nah, I’m grand.”

Bobby nods, pulls the plug in the sink and the kitchen is full of the sound of the water gurgling down the plughole. 

“Might head to the pub if you want to come?” Bobby says, peering out into the garden. It’s still bright, the best evening they’ve had all week. A drink would be nice but the thought of standing in a bustling bar all evening makes Niall’s stomach turn. He glances back up at his dad and is hit with a wave of warmth. It feels like it’s enveloping him. Niall drags his eyes open and realises that this is what his dad is feeling. 

“Think I’ll just hang around home,” Niall says and he’s expecting a dip of disappointment or something but his dad just smiles, the mood emitting from him non-wavering. 

“Maybe see you later?” he asks. He reaches for him and Niall thinks about dodging it but he doesn’t, just sinks into the envelope of his arms. It feels like he’s intruding on his dad’s thoughts without him knowing, at least the lads knew he could hear them think but his dad doesn’t. He screws his eyes shut, tries not to listen to the fragments of his dad’s mind but some slip through. They’re quiet and calm -- a thread of worry about Theo, the thirst for a pint on a warm day and a glowing image of Niall. 

Niall smiles into his dad’s shoulder and feels completely at ease for the first time since this morning. 

“See you later, Da,” Niall says and pulls back, grinning at him as he lifts his jacket. “Have a pint for me.”

*

Harry beeps the horn from his driveway at a quarter past and then again every minute until half because Niall’s still pulling on his socks. 

“Keep your hair on!” Niall shouts as he pulls on his coat even though Harry can’t hear. It’s pouring out, has been non-stop since Niall opened his eyes this morning. As he slams through his front door and makes for Gemma’s car he starts to feel excited, a foreign feeling of anticipation building in his gut as he climbs into the front seat. 

“What’s got you so exci--holy shit,” Niall says. Harry grins at him from the driving seat. 

“I know, right?” he asks and then leans into the middle so he can see himself in the rear mirror. He pulls back and grins. “I woke up like this.”

He looks older, not wildly older but enough that it makes Niall double take. His hair has grown out a bit, not as tightly curled as it normally is. It makes him seem more filled out, the way it hangs around his face. He’s lost the last of the baby fat clinging to his cheeks, his mouth looks fuller, smile wider. 

“How the fuck?” Niall asks, dumbstruck and reaches out. His fingers trace over the slight stubble on his chin and he gets a shock of Harry’s thoughts. They’re full of admiration, pride shining through his skin and into Niall’s fingertips. “This is mad.”

“It must be my power?” Harry asks and there’s a rumble of doubt in his voice that is fully realised through his thoughts, the thread of thought that he‘d been hiding last night. _It’s what I wished for, to be older, to be taken more seriously._

Niall’s not sure if he should stay listening but when he flicks his eyes up Harry’s staring back at him through bright eyes. 

_To be treated as an adult. To fill out my coat._ Harry says without opening his mouth. Niall nods, nail scraping over the patch of soft stubble. 

“To be me,” he says and Niall sighs. It sort of makes sense but there’s a wretched part of him that wishes he can’t hear this. 

“That’s good then?” Niall asks and leans back. Harry’s thoughts disappear, like an elastic band snapping back around Niall’s skin. He can only feel his jovial mood. “At least it’s a good power?” 

Harry shrugs bashfully and turns the ignition of the car. “Why did I get lucky then?” Harry asks as he reverses down the drive and heads towards the petrol station. “And you’ve got really weird ones? And what does Zayn have? He must have one then. Have you heard from him today?”

Niall shakes his head. Zayn hadn’t replied to any of the messages in their group, not even when Liam and Louis explained their catastrophe of a night with Liam’s family. 

“He’ll still meet us today though?” Harry asks, a brief thought of worry dampening his good mood as they pull into the pumps. “I hope he hasn’t got a really bad power. What if he‘s like turned green or something, he‘ll die off.”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Niall reassures him and gets out of the car. Above him, the tannoy crackles. 

_Clean up to pump three. Over sized man child blowing his load._

But it’s Liam’s voice and it makes Niall cackle. He can see them through the window of the shop, Louis standing behind the till and Liam’s body strewn across it to get at the microphone. 

_“Louis,” Louis' voice comes over the speakers. “You’ll get me sacked. You’ll get_ you _sacked!”_

Liam’s laugh echoes over the forecourt before it cuts out abruptly, the speaker squealing. Harry’s shaking his head as he starts putting petrol into the back of the car but Niall can feel the embarrassment radiating off him. The man on the next pump is eyeing him warily as Niall turns towards the shop. 

He sprints from the awning over to the door, the automatic sensor just a split second too slow so Niall still gets soaked. Liam and Louis are still squabbling at the counter, a disgruntled woman standing and waiting her turn. 

“Will you serve someone?” Liam says, finally stopping their argument. “I could do this job better than you.”

Louis sticks his tongue out at him and for a second Niall could have sworn that it _was_ Louis in there. It doesn’t help Niall’s near perpetual headache at trying to remember that they’ve swapped bodies.

Liam turns his head to grin at him and Niall catches sight of the gruesome bruise building on the side of his face. 

“What on earth happened?” Niall asks, reaching out to touch it. Liam rears back, hesitating before letting Niall press his fingers to his skin. He sees the explanation in his mind then. He can see the gym around him, a few burly guys working out around the ring. Liam’s bouncing on his feet, sparring with a guy that Niall vaguely recognises - or Louis recognises, he can’t work out who’s feeling what - and then there’s a fist coming squarely at his face. 

Niall dodges physically out of the way, fingers slipping off Liam’s face. 

“Would’ve helped if he had done that at the time,” Liam mutters from behind the till. 

“Yes well,” Louis snaps snarkily. “We can’t all be professional boxers, now can we?” 

Louis’ body shrugs. “You’ll just have to tell mum, that’s all. She’ll cause a fuss.”

Liam shrugs right back at him. “I’m sure I can take your mum.”

Louis smiles sweetly at him, leaning back down on the counter as his customers walk away. The door slides open with a swish and draught of air as Harry walks in. 

“Alright?” he asks and even his voice sounds older. Liam and Louis look stunned, mouths dropping open at the sight of him. 

“Holy shit,” Liam says faintly. “What the fuck.”

“It’s my power,” Harry says gleefully. His brightness is balancing nicely with the other two. Niall takes a step closer to him as he beams at them. “I’m older.”

“I can see that,” Louis says and leans closer to look at him properly. Harry grins, showing off his teeth. “At least your coat fits you now.”

Harry rolls his eyes and shoves at Liam’s shoulder. “I’m not going to offer you a lift now.”

“Aw what?” Liam says from behind the till. “Please? It’s my body that’s getting rained on.”

Harry doesn’t even answer him, instead he pulls down three tubes of Smarties from the rack beside the till and cracks one of them open. 

“So I thought we could go out tonight,” Harry says, throwing a fistfull into his mouth. “Show off my new look?” 

Niall snorts. “Of course the first thing you want to do is go on the pull.”

Harry grins at him. “Knew you’d be up for it, Niall.”

“That wasn’t me saying yes,” Niall warns. He isn’t sure if he wants to be around lots of drunk people feeling all sorts of things in the middle of a crowded dance floor. 

“Can’t,” Liam shrugs from the other side of the counter. He rings up Harry’s sweets and holds his hand out. Harry slaps it and carries on eating his chocolate. “House-sitting.”

“What?” Louis asks. “You don’t even have a baby-- hold on, _house-sitting_?”

Liam nods. “Yeah. Mr and Mrs Hutchinson have went on holiday and they want me to make sure that their house is ok. Feed their cat. That sort of thing.”

“So what you’re telling me is that you’ve got a free house for the night?”

Liam stares at him but it looks calculating on Louis’ features. Niall can feel his hesitation. “Until next Tuesday.”

“I could kiss you, Liam,” Louis says. Liam shakes his head. 

“No you can’t, it’ll be like kissing myself.”

Niall pulls a face at the thought and steals a Smartie from Harry’s palm. It’s gone warm, the colour streaking across his skin as it starts to melt. He gets a flash of Harry’s thoughts -- _it’d be nice to kiss yourself_ \-- and Niall wrenches his hand away before they go anywhere too detailed.

“You’re a dirty bugger,” Niall tells him and pops the sweet into his mouth. Harry grins at him, teeth smeared blue. 

Louis laughs brightly. “What’s he thinking now? Niall, you’re so sneaky with this. Spill.”

“A party would work,” Harry says loudly to deflect away from himself. 

“No,” Liam says finally clicking in. Niall doesn’t know what took him so long, he should always be on alert with Louis about this sort of thing. “You _can’t_. They’ll kill me. They’ll tell my mum!” 

“Dream a little, Li,” Louis tells him off and turns back to Harry. “Pay the man so he can go and clock me out of work.”

“You must love the place if you spent the whole morning here.” Harry mutters and pulls out his wallet, tossing a few coins into Liam’s still-outstretched palm. 

“Had to make sure he’s not tarnishing my employee of the month reputation,” Louis says with a grin. He’s been badgering on about his award since he got it but Niall can feel the tendrils of actual pride emanating from him. It doesn’t last long. Louis turns to Liam and snaps his fingers. “Chop, chop.”

Liam huffs a breath at being bossed about and Niall can feel his resignation as he turns towards the back of the shop. 

“Zayn meeting us at the field?” Louis asks as they start to walk out of the shop. Niall shrugs. 

“Haven’t heard from him, thought you’d be speaking to him?” Niall tells him as the door opens. It’s still chilly out. Niall pulls his coat tighter around him. 

“He’s just jealous of my power,” Harry tells them, popping his collar. Louis snorts and reaches for it, dragging it back down. Harry scowls at him, going for his collar to retaliate but Louis dances easily out of it. 

“He doesn’t know about your power yet,” Niall reminds him but Harry just laughs and goes for Louis again. Louis dodges it, staggering through the door and outside. 

Liam sighs from behind Niall, dragging his coat on. “You couldn’t have done any of that this morning? Seriously?”

Louis shrugs at him. “A black eye makes you handsome, Liam. You’re a bad boy. Sophia’ll wet her knickers when she sees you.”

Niall can feel how his heart starts to beat faster at the sound of her name. 

“And she’ll be so impressed,” Louis says, looping back around them to pull himself into a half hug. “So impressed she’ll snog you at your very own party that you’re hosting.”

“I’m _not_ throwing a party,” Liam says adamantly but Louis isn’t listening. 

“SHOTGUN!” He yells as Harry goes for his keys, skipping the rest of the way across the forecourt to the car. 

*

“Oh,” Niall mutters. He feels as soon as Zayn is within sight distance. Thunder rumbles above them, the rain falls heavier and Zayn trudges towards them, his face a picture of gloom. Niall thinks one of the clouds is actually following him, he’s soaked through. “I think I know what Zayn’s power is.”

Harry pulls a face. “What’s happened?” he shouts as Zayn approaches. Zayn gives him a wary look, eyes raking over Harry’s older face. 

“Don’t want to talk about it,” Zayn mutters, squeezing in beside them at the railing. It’s not necessary, there’s room on either side of their little group because most people haven’t turned up because of the rain. Niall feels an overwhelming sadness pressed against his side.

“Well you’re going to have to,” Harry says gently. “Or else we’ll drown in your rainy tears.”

The rain pelts harder. Niall feels distraught. 

“Christ,” Niall mutters, clearing his throat around the lump in his throat. “You’re really upset.”

“Sorry,” Zayn mopes. “It’s Perrie. She’s dumped me.”

“Aw shit,” Harry mutters. “How come?” 

Zayn glances up at him, does a double take at Harry and then answers, “She’s auditioning for some show or something. Leaving for London at the end of the month and doesn’t want me to be waiting for her.”

“Hey that’s good,” Liam’s elbow knocks into his but it’s Louis being cheeky. “That means you can have a summer fling with someone.”

Niall punches his arm. “Jesus, give him five minutes.”

Zayn’s lip curls. “Don’t really fancy it.”

“You’ll not be saying that when you’re drunk at Liam’s party.”

“Liam’s party?” Zayn asks. The rain falls around them harder. 

“He’s throwing a party, he just doesn’t know it yet,” Louis grins at him.

“Well he does know,” Niall reminds. “He’s just said no.”

“Semantics,” Louis shrugs. “Come on, cheer up, Zayny. I’m using big words, just for you.”

“And if that doesn’t cheer you up,” Harry says, smiling widely from under his hood. “Just watch Liam flail around the football pitch.” 

He hooks an arm around Zayn and pulls him into a hug. Out on the field, Louis' body goes down again. 

“Fuck sake,” Louis mutters and rubs at Liam’s lip. “He’s even worse than I was at boxing.”

“Why are we even here?” Zayn moans. “It’s fucking pissing down and Liam can’t play football.”

“It’s _funny_ ,” Louis says, reaching over to pull Zayn’s hood down. His hair wilts slightly in the rain. “Lighten up, dreary drawers.”

“We need to stop the spell,” Zayn says, turning to Niall desperately. Harry pats at his arm consolingly, reaching with one arm to yank his hood up for him. 

Louis stands up on the railing behind him and waves an arm in the air. “Louis!” he yells. “You’re so fit! Best arse on the football team!”

Out on the field, Liam topples over again.

The rain doesn’t pick up so after the match they all pile back into Gemma’s car. Harry turns the engine and hikes up the heating, the windows going foggy. Niall presses his side to the backseat door, trying not to touch Zayn at all, but he’s that wrapped up he doesn’t think he’ll be able to hear anything anyway.

Zayn unzips his coat and pulls out the ragged book.

“What did you bring it out with you for?” Louis demands, taking the book off him with careful hands. “You’re under a perpetual rain cloud.”

“Do you want to fix this or not?” Zayn asks tiredly, sinking back into the middle seat. He’s a few inches taller because of it, hair skimming the roof of the car even though it’s a wilted mess.

“Yes,” Louis snaps. “Just don’t want you to ruin any future escapades.”

“You can’t be serious,” Liam hisses. “You want to keep doing magic? Even though this has happened?”

Niall’s nearly smothered by the tension filling the car. He turns his head towards the window, watches a few drips of rain roll down as he tries to catch his breath. 

“That’s what we do,” Louis says but it sounds extra quiet coming out of Liam’s mouth. “That’s what the club’s for.”

“It’s just a silly club,” Liam mutters. 

Louis gasps. “We made a pledge, Liam.”

Liam twists Louis’ face into an indifferent expression and crosses his arms across his chest. There’s mud streaked through the hair on his arm, some on his chin. 

“Hey,” Harry pouts from the front seat. “Can we discuss the morality of the club after we sort this out? I’m starving.”

“Alright, Mr. Easy Stretch,” Louis snarks and starts flipping through soggy pages. “Sorry you’ve finally hit puberty but I’d quite like to keep the club together for when we’re done here.”

“The club is just a club,” Liam tells him, petulantly. It sounds perfect coming out of Louis’ mouth. “It’s just a book.”

“The club is all of us.” Louis doesn’t lift his eyes from the book but Niall can see the shake of his fingers and feel the emotion behind the conviction in his voice. “Together. And this is our last summer of it so I don’t want to ruin it.”

“We’re the club,” Niall says in a fake wafty voice to lighten the mood. Zayn smiles beside him but it doesn’t quite cheer him up enough. Louis’ mouth twists. 

“So you’re happy to sit in my body?” Liam asks him and Louis’ shoulders droop. 

“I just don’t think it’s the worst thing in the world,” Louis tells him. Harry grins beside him. 

“I definitely don’t,” Harry comments and Zayn snorts. 

“You wouldn’t,” he says quietly. “Stud.”

Harry grins, cocking his head to the side. Niall laughs at him, preening in the front of the stuffy car. 

“Here it is here,” Louis interrupts them. He glances up at Liam and offers him a weak smile. “Found the counterspell.”

“What do we need for it?” Niall asks, feeling a roll of disappointment settle in his stomach. 

“Doesn’t look too hard,” Louis says, humming as he drags his finger down the list of ingredients. “We have most of the stuff already. We need cinnamon, the wax of a red candle, some frogspawn and cat’s tail.”

The car goes silent for a moment. 

“Oh a trip to Asda would do it then?” Liam mutters. 

“Oh well,” Harry says brightly, clapping his hands together. It sounds loud with them all being so quiet. “At least we tried.”

“Where are we going to get a cat?” Zayn asks incredulously. “I knew we shouldn’t have started messing about with this shit.” 

“Don’t worry,” Louis says brightly, the mischievous grin doesn’t sit right on Liam’s face. “I have a plan.”

“We can’t kill a cat,” Liam says, catching on far faster than Niall. There’s a wave of trepidation throughout the car as he presses on. “Not my fucking neighbours’, anyway. The neighbours who are paying me to make sure their cat remains very un-dead.”

Louis scoffs. “Like I’d turn you into a kitty killer.” He turns round in his seat, snapping the book shut loudly. “Right, old man, lets get you fed.”

Harry whoops and puts the car in gear, pulling out of the carpark easily. 

The cafe is packed because of the weather. Louis hovers by the door until a group of girls from a few years below them finally decide to finish their ice cream so he can steal their table. 

They all flash smiles at Harry as they pass, erupting into giggles once they’re out the door. Harry smiles back and turns to Niall, cheeks pink. 

“Ugh,” Louis says, picking up a menu but not looking at it. There’s no need, they’ve been coming here every Saturday after football since Louis joined the team. “Stop grinning like an idiot.”

Harry smiles wider. “No can do,” Harry says and throws a grin over his shoulder to a bunch of girls in his sisters year. “I may as well make the most of my power before it’s taken from me.”

“Zayn,” Niall says cajolingly even though he feels a wave of annoyance that is not his own. “Come on, cheer up. Give us a bit of sun, yeah?”

“Piss off,” he says morosely. 

“It’ll be the rainiest June since records began at this rate,” Harry comments as one of the waitresses slides over to them with a grin. Her eyes land on each of them before settling on Harry. 

Louis clears his throat. “Three chips, four cokes and a glass of milk for the cry baby,” Louis orders for them. Harry wraps an arm around Zayn and pats at his shoulder as he slides down his chair moodily. 

“Two cheeseburgers, a portion of chicken wings and a side salad please,” Harry tells her. 

“Watching your weight?” Louis asks sarcastically. Harry sends him a smirk. 

“It’s the growth spurt, fucking starving. It’s like I’m fourteen again.” Harry sends a smile up at the waitress. “Only, I’m more experienced.”

She giggles and takes a step back towards the kitchen. 

“You are shameless,” Liam tells him, shaking his head. Niall knows he’s not as disappointed as he’s letting on. 

“Oh, and tell Ed to see me when he gets a minute,” Louis tells the waitress but she’s hardly listening, eyes still glued to Harry until she gets to the door of the kitchen. 

“So, this plan?” Zayn asks and Louis grins. 

“Easy.” He shrugs. “Ed will help with the cat, we need to go down to the river for the frogspawn, we can get the rest in Tesco. Sorted.”

“And the party?” Liam asks him with a frown. 

“That’s for fun, Liam,” Louis reminds him, reaching over to mess up his damp hair. “Let your hair down, get my dick sucked. Enjoy yourself for one final night in a far superior body before we ruin a years work of the club.”

Liam splutters. 

“We’ll still let you be President,” Niall reassures him. “And we can keep the secret handshake.”

“Thanks Niall, always knew you had the best interests of the club at heart,” Louis says, lifting Liam’s hand to fistbump Niall across the table. Niall laughs, meeting him halfway. 

“Oh, here he is,” Harry says loudly as Ed shuffles over to them. 

Harry bites his lip but doesn’t say anything. Niall can feel a few pairs of eyes shift to his and he does his best to ignore them as Ed plonks himself down on the edge of the bench. 

Niall shuffles a bit closer to Zayn, in case he aims a few swift kicks anywhere unpleasant. He wouldn’t put it past him -- he made Niall’s last few months of school a paranoid hell after he got with Ed’s ex-girlfriend at a party before their exams. Niall knows he knows but he hasn’t come out and said anything about it which has made him sweat under the collar. Since March. 

Plus he’s pretty sure it was Ed who started the rumour that he was a really bad kisser. 

Zayn pats his knee under the table and the sky brightens slightly. At least he‘s cheering Zayn up.

He sets down the tins of coke and slides a glass of milk in front of Louis. Liam looks at it unimpressed. 

“Wrong baby, but that works too,” Louis says with a shrug. Liam glares at him.

“What’s all the fuss then?” Ed asks. 

“Liam’s throwing a party,” Liam’s mouth says, even though it’s Louis. There’s movement underneath the table and Niall lifts his feet out of harms way as someone kicks at Liam’s shin.

Ed quirks an eyebrow. “And also started speaking in the third person?”

“Oh,” Liam starts to laugh nervously. Opposite him, the real Liam is doing the same but in Louis' skin. “It’s a new thing I’m trying, summer drama group. It’s great fun. You should come along, we always need new members.”

Ed narrows his eyes but Zayn starts to laugh, turning his head into Niall’s neck to giggle. His lips brush Niall’s throat and there’s a shot of glee shooting through him, making Niall giggle too. There’s a brief flash of sunlight, warming Niall’s skin slightly. 

“Yeah,” Ed says warily. “I’ll think about it. So this party?”

“We need a few things,” Liam says seriously and it seems off coming out of Louis' body like that. 

Ed eyes them warily. “Don’t think you need my help, you’ve got enough illicit drugs for your use.”

Liam rolls Louis' eyes and it looks uncannily like how Louis would do it. 

“Not drugs,” he says. “We need something a little more, um, specialist.”

Zayn giggles again and Harry shakes his head. “You make it sound so weird.”

“It _is_ weird,” Liam snaps. Niall can feel his irritation but he can understand it more, there’s something controlling there too -- like Liam’s need to take charge in every situation. It makes sense, Niall supposes. He’s always been the one sorting everything out. 

“Get to the point, boys,” Ed says, glancing at his watch. “My break is nearly over.”

“Aw, are you wasting your break on us?” Harry asks, sweeping his hair away from his eyes. 

“Stop flirting with him too,” Louis tells him but Harry just sticks his tongue out.

“We need a cat.”

The squabbling cuts out. Zayn’s quiet beside him but there’s more laughter fizzing up on his insides, Niall can hear it where their knees are pressed together. Harry barks out a laugh and then they’re all doing it, giggling until Ed stands up, looking entirely unimpressed. 

“I’m not giving you some poor cat to be sacrificed by you lot,” Ed tells them and Louis reaches out for him. 

“Not a live one,” Liam says desperately. “We need its tail.”

“Its tail,” Ed repeats deadpan. “How the fuck am I supposed to get a cat tail without a dead cat?” 

“Where’s your imagination?” Louis asks. 

“Your mum’s a vet, you could ask her,” Harry suggests.

Ed stares at him. “And where’s she getting all these tail-less cats?”

“Well they should have tails before the -- tailectomy. Preferably ginger,” Louis says, making Liam’s mouth turn up into a sickening smile. Niall kicks at his foot, hears a brief swear word even though he didn’t open his mouth, and then he coughs out, “please.”

“I’ll see you at the party,” Ed tells them, eyeing them all carefully before he leaves. 

“Is that a yes?” Liam calls after him. 

“Ssh,” Harry tells him and tugs him back down into the booth. “Don’t piss him off.”

“You’ll have no bother cheering him up, though, right Harry?” Louis asks him, pushing his tongue into the side of Liam’s mouth so it looks like he’s sucking off the imaginary dick in his hand. His own body looks mortified opposite him. 

“Stop that,” Liam hisses and glances over his shoulder. Sophia is in a booth not too far away, looking slightly confused. “Will you go and say hello to Sophia. She’s going to dump me at this rate.”

“You need to be going out with someone before they are your girlfriend, Liam,” Louis reminds him.

“Aw, guys, no girlfriend chat. Come on,” Niall hisses. He feels Zayn wilt beside him. Rain batters the window. 

“Shit, sorry,” Liam apologises and reaches Louis’ arm towards Zayn to take his hand. “Didn’t mean that, buddy.”

Zayn gives him a weak smile and sags further into Harry’s side. 

“So,” Harry asks, pulling a knife out of the pile of cutlery in the middle of the table and tapping it off the side of the table. “Who’s going swimming for frogspawn?”

*

They leave it until the morning under the assumption that Zayn would cheer up slightly after a good night’s sleep and the rain would ease.

But it doesn’t. Zayn arrives to the park as miserable as ever, with the rain to emphasise his point. 

“You go in,” Liam tells him, pointing at the huge pond in the middle of the park. It’s empty because of the rain, even the ducks off finding shelter. Niall feels his hackles rise. 

“Why do I have to go in?” Niall demands. There’s a drip at the end of his nose and he rubs at it angrily. “Make Harry do it, he’s the one that ruined everything.”

“Well he’s not here is he?” Liam points out. “And you’re wearing a snazzy pair of wellies.”

Niall groans, shoulders falling. He glances down at his feet, a pair of his dad’s Wellingtons on because the back of the garden was waterlogged this morning. 

“Come on,” Zayn cajoles him. “For the good of the club.”

“For the club,” Louis echoes and Niall groans again, makes a point to show his displeasure at the idea before trudging to the edge of the water. 

“You owe me a drink,” Niall mutters and splashes into the river. 

“A very big one,” Liam agrees. “That can be arranged.”

Niall glares at him and steps further into the water. It’s murky and cold, colder when it reaches the top of his boot and soaks into the material of his jeans. 

“I fucking hate you all,” Niall mutters and he’s sure they can hear him because there’s an aura of mirth radiating from the water’s edge. 

Niall’s knee deep when Harry finally shows.

“Oh dear,” Louis says bluntly as Harry approaches them. It’s still raining but even under Harry’s hood Niall can see how he’s visibly older. 

“It’s won’t stop,” Harry says in lieu of a greeting. “I had to put on some of my mum’s anti wrinkle cream!” 

“I don’t think it’s worked,” Liam says, biting at Louis’s lip. 

“No shit,” he says, eyes widening before he fists his hand in his hair, looking slightly deranged. And forty years old. “I had to hide from Gemma this morning because I don’t want anyone to see. How am I supposed to explain this? I’ve just doubled in age in twenty four hours.”

His voice keeps getting higher and he looks like he could likely cry. Niall’s not sure the last time he’s seen a grown adult cry like this before. He pulls a face at Niall in the water.

“I’m fishing for frogspawn,” Niall tells him. “With no net, because Louis didn’t think to bring one.”

“It’ll be all worth it,” Louis says wisely and holds out the jar for Niall to scoop some of the spawn into. It’s a bit disgusting and Niall’s not exactly sure what he’s looking for but he finds a rock under a rush of water that looks a little bouncy so figures he’s found it. 

“Thank goodness it’s not tadpoling season,” Harry tells him once Niall scoops some of it into the jar. It’s runnier than he thought and the slime slides uncomfortably over Niall’s fingers. Niall cringes and barely listens to the rest of them. Rain plinks down on his head, running down the back of his collar. 

“Yes, thank you Countryfile,” Louis snarks from dry land and Niall soaks in his irritation, lets it mingle with his own. 

“I just pay attention in biology,” Harry says with a huff. Niall jams the lid on the jar and starts to wade back across the river. Liam’s already holding his hand out, like he needs to inspect Niall’s handiwork. 

“It’s fucking slimy,” Niall tells them. “You all owe me very large drinks. Lots of very large drinks.”

“Just wash it before you touch any of us,” Zayn tells him. He looks far too smug, nice and relatively dry under his hood. 

Niall glares at him but bends over to shake his hand under the surface. He huffs a breath and at the last minute loses his balance, tumbling into the reeds. 

His head barely goes under, just the back of his hair gets soaked because he rockets up, knees aching as he staggers to his feet. 

“Fuck!” he yelps once he catches his breath and the rest of them burst into laughter. 

“Fucking hell, Niall,” Louis gasps and he’s bent at the stomach, his hand curled in his own coat on his body’s back beside him. 

“How very Enid Blyton.” Liam laughs. “All we need now is for you to find a treasure cave or something under there.”

Zayn quirks an eyebrow. “I think we’ve had enough adventures with our own business.”

Niall reaches out as he comes to the edge of the water. His feet ache from the stones under them. Harry reaches forward and Niall grins at him, think he’s going to take his hand but he doesn’t, just takes the jar out of his hand. 

At the brush of fingers alone, Niall’s bombarded with all his worries. _Grey hair. Saggy skin. I‘m gonna die._ It makes him sway. 

“You’re a fucker,” Niall tells him as he leaves him to clamber out of the pond by himself. “I hope your skin droops so much you can’t see your dick.”

Zayn splutters out a laugh and just like that the rain eases off. 

“Never get it sucked at that rate,” he says and then frowns. “Join the club.”

“Zayn, cheer up please,” Louis moans as there’s another pelting of rain. “There’s a weather warning, for fuck’s sake.”

Zayn flips him off. “I can make it rain harder for you all, if you want.”

“No,” Louis grumbles. “Wet enough, thank you.”

Niall glances up from where he’s dragging his soggy socks off. “ _You’re_ wet?” 

 

*

“Can we not just have the party, just like, us five?” Liam asks for the third time as they unload the trolley. Niall had opted to stay in the car -- the crush of emotions was already too much in the carpark. He wasn’t sure if he could handle the stress of a supermarket full of harried mothers doing the weekly shop. 

“No,” Niall replies, kicking him gently through the open back door so he won‘t take it so bluntly. Liam gives him a wan smile. Niall’s jeans have half dried, shrinking to his skin so it’s awkward to fold his knees back into the car and the whole car smells like stagnant pond water, but he’s been trying to work through it. For the good of the club. 

Harry smiles at him, dangling a little air freshener tree into the car for him to hook over the mirror. 

“You read my mind. Cherry. Nice,” Niall says approvingly as he reaches forward to hang it up. 

“How apt,” Louis says, voice filtering loudly through the open boot. “On the night that Liam’s about to pop his.”

Niall can hear Liam groan. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not a virgin?”

“Pop your party cherry,” Louis tells him, handing him a clinking carrier bag. “Get your mind out of the gutter, seriously Liam, you think too much about sex.”

“They’ll totally know that I’ve thrown a party,” Liam says, ignoring Louis completely except for the pink blush that‘s creeping up Louis‘ cheeks. “Plus you can see their house from mine. You can _hear_ it.”

“Liam,” Louis sighs. He’s doing his best to cheer Zayn up and it involves a lot of pulling him into headlocks and pretending to push him into the boot. Zayn wriggles away from him with a low laugh. “The party is happening, whether you like it or not.”

“But why? We can just drink in my back room, where my mum will know exactly where we are and not break anything.”

“We’re meeting Ed at the party,” Harry reminds him, peering at some magazine he’s bought. There’s a man in a suit on the front, Niall’s not sure what it’s for. 

“He can just come to the house,” Liam pushes on. Niall’s getting bored of this conversation already and he can tell so are the rest of them. “Why do we need to have a party when he can just call round?” 

Louis sighs and jumps on the end of the trolley. It wobbles a bit and then crawls towards Liam from the momentum. Harry’s not paying attention to it anymore.

“Because it’s _fun_ and we vowed to have as much _fun_ as we can before everyone pisses off to uni,” Louis tells him as the trolley finally comes to a stop. 

Liam huffs. It _was_ something that everyone agreed for the summer. There had been an oath and everything. 

Zayn takes over pushing the trolley, manoeuvring Louis and the last of their shopping back to the car before they get hit by oncoming traffic. 

“Some old-man merlot for the old man,” Louis says, handing a few bottles into the back seat so they don’t roll around in the boot. Niall snorts but Harry looks mutinous through the grimy window. 

“Mature,” Harry corrects him and whacks him over the head with his magazine before he slams his boot closed. “The mature man.”

“Alright, Daddy,” Louis replies and Liam and Zayn burst into laughter. Harry huffs and climbs into the car. Niall raises an eyebrow at him in the rear mirror and moves into the middle seat for the rest of them to get in. He catches a whiff of his jeans and swallows down the urge to retch. 

“Harry got asked if we were his children,” Louis gushes once he’s shoved himself in beside Niall in the back seat. “It was hilarious.”

Niall cackles. “What?”

“There’s some sports team collecting money by the door and they gave Harry their brochure. Said there was some summer teams to keep his kids busy.”

Harry shakes his head. “He did _not_.”

“He did,” Louis says over the top of him. “Asked if he wanted to join the golf club. They’ve got a pensioner handicap.”

Harry throws the car into gear, mouth pressed into a firm line. Zayn’s laughing beside him and there’s a shine of a rainbow in the sky for a moment.

“I can’t wait for this fucking party,” Harry mutters and pulls out of the parking space. 

*

The Hutchinsons’ house is a little bit bigger than Liam’s, a sprawling conservatory extending out from the kitchen into the garden where Liam’s parents’ place still has a swing set rusting in their lawn. 

From the kitchen window Niall can see Liam’s mum doing the dishes -- Liam was right, this is going to be a terrible idea.

There’s a brief lull before the guests arrive in which Liam frantically laps the house, taking photos of everything so they can put it all back in the right place tomorrow. Harry watches him with a lazy grin, drink already in his hand. He looks slightly sleazy, long hair lank around his ears as he reclines in one of the chairs in the living room. They’ve pushed the furniture to the edge of the room in hopes of creating a dance floor but Zayn’s taken over the playlist and it’s turning more heartbroken with every change of song. 

Harry makes something fruity and pours it into a huge glass bowl he’s found somewhere. Liam looks like he’s having a crisis as he starts ladling it out with a huge spoon he’s found in a drawer, scraping it over the fine crystal. 

“Have some punch, Li,” Harry suggests and hands him a glass. “We’ll have a toast?”

“Your last toast didn’t go so well,” Zayn reminds him but picks up one of his glasses anyway. 

“I don’t think it was my toast that really did it,” Harry shrugs and clinks his glass with Zayn’s. Liam’s anxiety hitches and Niall pats at his arm gently before pushing at the bottom of his glass.

“Bottom’s up, Liam,” Niall tells him. “For the good of the club.”

“For the good of the bloody club,” Liam mutters and takes a gulp of the punch. “Ugh.”

Harry looks utterly pleased with himself. “There’s a secret ingredient.”

“I don’t want to know,” Liam tells him and coughs a little. “Don’t let anyone else drink that. It tastes like chemical waste.”

“So dramatic,” Louis and Harry chorus together. 

Niall grins and takes a drink. It does taste strong, catching at the back of his throat. There’s a strawberry floating in his and he takes it out to chew it, just for the taste. Harry raises his glass again. 

“Everyone have a good time tonight,” he says. “May Hilda and Zelda forever be watching over us.”

“Have you been tasting this as you made it?” Louis asks beside him. “Are you already bladdered?” Harry digs his elbow into his ribs in retaliation. Liam stares mournfully down at the splash of punch that landed on the Hutchinsons’ nice shiny kitchen floor. 

“To Sabrina,” Louis suggests mockingly. Harry tuts and then sighs, raising his hands again.

“To Sabrina,” he echoes and they all clink glasses in the middle of the kitchen. It still tastes too strong but Niall swallows it down. By his second glass, he can barely taste it at all. 

People arrive thick and fast, the living room filling up. They spill up the stairs and into the bedrooms and Liam spends most of the evening hovering around the kitchen door looking like he’s going to have a heart attack. 

“Stop it,” Niall tells him. The anxiety is starting to give him a headache. The whole house is. He can feel the pressure of so many feelings battering at his chest like they’re physical balloons full of air, bumping into his ribs and his back and his arms until his hair goes static and they all burst, rubber snapping at his skin. 

Some of it is nice -- like when someone brushed past him earlier on the way to the bathroom and thought _he’s cute_ \-- but there’s Liam’s anxious fretting and Zayn’s gloomy dread that Perrie will turn up and some boys by the utility room that are going to end up in a fight. 

He has to take a breather, pushing through people and their bombardment of fuzzy thoughts to make it into the back garden. He sucks in a lungful of air, feels it sting at the back of his throat because it’s so cold. 

It’s dark, clouds creeping in and blocking out the last of the sunset and Niall can see Liam’s kitchen window, a block of yellow light. Even from outside Niall can hear the hubbub of the party. Liam’s dead in the morning. 

“There you are,” Harry says appearing out from behind the garage. He’s got a handful of beer, four bottles between his fingers of one hand and Ed on the other. 

“Hi,” Ed says and there’s a moment of unease, Niall’s chest tightening at the feeling before it peters out and he can feel it dilute down by Harry’s cheerfulness. 

“Hello,” Niall greets him and peers between their shoulders. “Where were you off to?” 

“Ed was giving me the stuff,” Harry says very seriously. His eyes are a little glassy. “And a little bit extra.”

Niall pulls a face. “Do I want to know what that is?” 

Ed laughs and holds out his other hand so Niall can see a joint. Harry giggles and stumbles forward, pushing his now free hand around Niall’s neck. His thumb catches at his hairline. 

_Love you_ Harry thinks lazily. _Love you and love Liam and I love Zayn and I love Louis. And my mum and Gemma. I love Gemma Arterton too and Benny-- Ben-- Benedict Cumberbatch and Peter from our Chemistry class and Peter Rabbit and --_

“Okay,” Niall says and pats at his arm, pulling away before he gets a full run down exactly who Harry loves. 

Harry gives him a bright smile and Niall presses his thumb to his dimple, getting a flash of _\--Kate Moss and--_ before he pulls away again. 

“You get the cat?” Niall asks Ed instead and Ed grimaces. 

“It was surprisingly easy to get what you wanted,” he says and heads back in towards the house. Niall isn’t sure he wants to know. 

“I’ve got the goods in my pocket,” Harry tells Niall like it’s a secret, voice dropping down to a hiss. He’s whispering but it’s loud enough that he may as well be talking normally. Niall grins at him as Harry drags a finger up to his lips. “Ssssh.”

“Let’s see it then?” Louis asks once they’re up the back step and in the kitchen again.

“Don’t miss anything, do you?” Niall asks him and Harry rummages in his pocket for a moment, the four bottles of beer clinking dangerously in his hand. Niall reaches for them, taking one out from Harry’s crooked little finger. 

“Ta da!” he cries and produces a fluffy bit of orange fur from his pocket. 

“That’s it?” Louis asks and Ed snorts. 

“I was hardly going to hack some poor cat’s tail off,” Ed tells him. “Be happy with your lot.”

“Louis, say thank you,” Liam orders him and Ed’s face twists because it’s Louis’ body standing beside them with his hand on his hip. 

“That drama class,” Louis laughs it off. “I’m telling you, you should really come. It really makes you think about the theory of identity and what’s behind the name. Great work all round.”

Liam hums his agreement, stroking at his chin in a bid to make Louis look wise or something. Niall can’t hide his laugh, Harry’s already cracking up beside him. 

“I can’t work out if I’m too drunk or not drunk enough,” Ed comments idly, looking between them all. 

“Not drunk enough!” Harry announces, waving his hand with the tail in the air. Liam’s face blanches. 

“Give that here!” Liam snaps. “We need to put that in a safe place. Somewhere where no one would look.” 

“No,” Louis butts in. “Somewhere where everyone would look and not notice it. That’s the best hiding place.”

“God, I never realised how fucking bossy you _both_ are,” Niall mutters. He can feel them both getting offended either side of them. 

“No we are not,” Louis defends himself and Niall snorts at that. Ed throws his hands up and leaves them to it. Harry sort of drifts for a moment before he hands out the rest of the beer. 

“Harry beerday,” he tells them before retreating in the direction of the living room. 

“You’ve switched bodies,” Niall tells them, glancing at each other. Liam’s body is listing slightly to the side, the beer in his hand far too many drinks for what he’s used to. “But you managed to pull it off way better than I thought you would.”

Louis' face twists. “Take that right back,” Liam says.

“See,” Niall says with a shrug. He takes a gulp of Harry’s beer but it’s gone warm. “Louis would totally say that.”

They both scowl at him and Niall’s sure that he’s about to be dragged into their squabbling when the kitchen grows silent. Niall glances up and sees Zayn standing at the other side of the kitchen table, mouth open slightly and looking awkward. Perrie’s in the doorway. 

“Oh here we go,“ Louis says and backs them into the counter to watch. Niall can feel the anticipation from them all, spectating like it’s a sport, and it makes him feel a bit sick because it’s one of his best friends. 

He still watches though. It’s hard not to. 

“I miss you,” Perrie tells him, right there in the middle of the kitchen. 

“I miss you too,” Zayn tells her, voice barely dropping. Niall smiles, he’s used to Zayn being shy about this sort of thing but it’s nice to see him being so open. Some of the girls in the corner all sag and go “Aww.” 

Perrie gives him a soppy look and her shoulders relax, like she’s melting. Niall feels a sickening roll of fondness that makes him grin. Perrie holds out a hand and Zayn goes into her arms easily, kissing her quickly. There’s a flash of light outside and then a happy rumble of thunder. Beside him Louis snorts. 

“I suppose I better go make Liam’s year,” he says quietly. Liam’s at the other side of the kitchen, still forcing Louis’ face into a frown. 

He slides off the bench, pats at Zayn’s shoulder as he leaves -- not that he notices, he’s still snogging Perrie senseless -- and Niall sees him approach where Sophia’s standing near the sink, pouring vodka into a glass. 

“Sophia,” he says loudly and from the corner of his eye Niall can see Liam look up. “I like you very much, will you please go for a drink with me?” 

Sophia looks stunned and then she smiles prettily, throwing her hair over her shoulder. “We could have a drink now?”

Louis falters and Niall feels a brief stab of panic creeping over to him from both side of the room. Liam takes a step forward and Niall has to throw out a leg to stop him from going over and making a scene. Louis grins at her, transforming Liam’s face into something a bit better than a grimace. Beside him, Liam starts to fidget with the hole in Niall’s jeans, the pads of his fingers dragging roughly against the skin there. He sees a flash of Liam’s thoughts, sees _Louis_ and Sophia together. 

“Relax,” Niall tells him, nudging his hand with his knee to get him to stop tickling him. “He’s doing you a favour, he’s not going to snog her face off.”

“I hope not,” Liam tells him very seriously. “Because I want to do that.”

Niall rolls his eyes and starts making Liam a strong drink. He pauses for a moment before making Louis one too -- he might need it. 

“I -- uh,” Louis says and then looks wildly about. His eyes catch on Niall waving the bottle of vodka in his hand at him and then grins. “Nialler’s already got one for me. But it’s a date?”

Liam groans beside him. “He’s ruining it. I would never say that.”

“At least he’s talking to her, Liam.” Niall pours out three healthy measures and tops up the cups with some lemonade that’s quickly going flat. “Get that down you and go and embarrass Louis on the dance floor.” Harry’s already there, swinging a girl around to make her laugh to some chirpy song he’s put on to cheer everyone up after an hour of mellow Drake songs. 

“Nearly impossible to embarrass him,” Liam sighs but starts to chug the drink anyway. Niall watches him, grinning. He wonders whose alcohol tolerance he’ll have because if it’s his own he’ll be in for a treat later. 

“We’re, um --” Zayn says, leaning across the kitchen table to say to Niall. “We’re heading upstairs.”

“Yes, thanks for the update,” Niall says, ushering him away. Liam starts to giggle and Louis arrives back, Liam’s face looking very smug. 

“Next Friday,” Louis says. “Drinks at the Crown. No need to thank me, Liam.”

“Thank you,” Liam says bashfully, passing him one of the drinks and only managing to spill it over Niall’s legs once. 

“Anything for you,” Louis tells him sweetly and pulls him into a hug. Niall grins, feeling that warm glow from them right down to his toes. 

“We can go and watch you from a table in the corner,” Louis follows up with and Niall laughs brightly at Liam’s scowl. “Makes it easier to critique your work, y’know.”

“We can have hand signals for when you want us to coincidentally phone you with an emergency,” Niall adds. 

“Buy you drinks in case they ID you, you know?” Louis suggests and they watch as Louis’ cheeks flame. 

“That was one time,” Liam hisses and goes to refill his drink. Niall laughs loudly, sliding onto the bench beside the sink. He feels giddy, everyone’s happy emotions lifting him up along with his drink. It’s warm; someone’s opened the back door to smoke and it’s stopped raining. Zayn’s happiness is projecting in the electric in the air. Harry turns the music up louder, Louis sings along, and outside there’s another sizzle of lightning. The smokers by the door laugh. Niall’s heels kick off the edge of the washing machine and he knows that Liam’s about to tell him off when it suddenly goes dark. 

There’s a yelp from somewhere, the house otherwise thrust into complete silence as the music cuts off. 

“Shit.” 

*

“Look,” Zayn says quietly. “How was I meant to know that I have a magic dick?”

Niall splutters out a laugh. 

“You already know you have a magic dick,” Louis grumbles. 

The kitchen is alight with candles. Harry had found tealights somewhere under the kitchen sink and set them out carefully around the kitchen and living room, Liam following him to make sure he didn’t set any curtains on fire or use up all the red candles they need for tomorrow. 

Still, the party had died down, a crowd of people going up the road to another house. There’s still a few about, Perrie and her friends in the living room and Ed out back with a few lads watching the stars. 

“Not enough to trip the entire house.” Zayn shrugs and reclines back in his seat. They’re sitting around the table, candles aglow in front of them. Niall can see them all smile slowly in the shadows and he grins, entirely happy to be there with them. 

It’s odd, knowing that there’s a limit to this. Summers used to stretch on forever, the five of them together, but at the end of this one they’ll all be going somewhere new. It’s exciting but there’s an edge to it, something tainting it.

“We’ll do this next summer?” Niall asks them and they all glance at him, soft smiles forming on their faces. 

“Course,” Liam says quietly. “And Christmas. And you’ll all be up to see me anyway.”

“You can’t disband the club, Niall,” Louis says and reaches forward to skim his fingers down Niall’s arm. Niall gets a shock of emotion then, something that Louis must’ve been hiding. 

“I’ll miss you too,” Niall replies back to him when he works through the tipsy muddle in Louis’ head. Louis laughs softly, pulling him into a hug. Niall snuffles his head into his shoulder. He can hear the scrape of a chair over his shoulder and when he glances up he can see Harry pulling Liam and Zayn into a hug of their own. 

“Can we do the spell before we have to clear up tomorrow?” Louis asks when they’ve all settled back into their own chairs. Niall blinks over at him. “I need to make Liam’s body do it. And I don’t want to be inside it while he does it.”

Louis’ body reaches out to whack him. “Still going to make you help.”

“Don’t want to be in it when your mum shouts at you either.” Louis grins. 

“We were having a moment,” Harry groans. “A really nice candlelit moment, like we’re in a movie or something, and you had to ruin by opening your big gob.”

Louis laughs and then they’re all laughing, for no good reason at all. 

*

They make Louis help clean up in the morning as they all set about gathering burnt-out silver tealights and pushing furniture back into place as per the photos on Liam’s phone. And they agree to do the spell before Liam has to go home to face his parents. 

The sun is glittering weakly through the clouds as they trudge through Zayn’s sodden garden and into the damp shed. One of the pans is full of water and Harry lifts it gently, tipping the water out onto the waterlogged grass outside the door. 

“Worst summer ever,” Louis comments to make Zayn scowl. 

“It’s sunny, now isn’t it?” Zayn asks him, waving his hand about. Louis rolls his eyes. 

“We had a chance to have two days in a row of sunshine,” Louis tells him. “And you made it rain.”

“Let’s just get this over and done with,” Liam distracts them, letting the book fall onto the table with a thud. He flicks through the pages as they all take their places, Niall balancing precariously on a rickety wooden stool. 

“Shall we do a toast this time?” Harry asks. He’s got a hat pulled down tight over his head to cover his new acquired bald spot. 

“Definitely not!” Niall tells him as they join hands. They all grin and Niall can feel how excited everyone is. It’s a different excitement from before, they’re not looking forward to the unknown or the magic -- it’s an excitement about getting back to how they were. 

Liam takes charge, lighting the candles and dripping wax into the cauldron. 

“Let’s do this then,” he says with a nervous grin and sits down, touching his hands with Harry and Zayn on either side of them and it happens again, the shuddering and glittering white light --

Before it all goes black.


End file.
